


Long live the king

by Mirha



Category: Football RPF
Genre: 17th Century France, All blame goes to the no good gang tm, Alternate Universe - Historical, Crack, Don't take any of this seriously, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 12:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15863205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mirha/pseuds/Mirha
Summary: Šime becomes king of France and finds love along the way





	1. Chapter 1

Dejan couldn’t stand to stay in his room any longer. When he had moved to Versailles, as it was required of any nobleman of his rank, he certainly didn’t expect to end up in a ridiculously small place, barely heated in winter and burning hot in summer. Back home, he had a nice house in the country side, but here, he was treated as a servant, if not worse. And of course, leaving would mean displeasing the king and bringing disgrace upon his family, something he just couldn’t do.

However, his annoyance grew quickly and it quickly got to the point where he just couldn’t stay in one place anymore, soDejan decided that he could wander in a castle to distract himself a little. Sure, there were certainly a hundred etiquette rules forbidding it, but he had enough with the damn etiquette anyway. So after putting on his less gaudy clothes, he took a step outside and started exploring.

During parties and other important events, Versailles was full of life and colors, but not today. Everything was silent and Dejan made sure his footsteps were as light as possible. So no one would spot him. He had no real idea of his destination, all he knew was that he wanted to run far away from the sour smell of his room.

He had been roaming the corridors for a good hour when he leaned onto a wall and accidentally found a strange asperity in it. On another day, he wouldn’t have bothered inspecting it, but he was bored and any distraction was welcome. It didn’t take him long to understand that it was a hidden door.

A voice in his mind told him that this could get dangerous, that he shouldn’t mess with what was obviously the king’s business, that he should go back to his room and forget all about this little expedition. But Dejan didn’t listen. He pushed the door open and adventured himself in narrow stairs, not forgetting to close the entryway behind him first.

The path it took went down and Dejan soon realized he was going under the castle. This looked intriguing though, so he didn’t turn back. When he reached the end of the stairs, he found a dark, rusty place, only lightened up by a few torches.

Dejan jumped in surprise when he heard the rattle of chains. He was about to panic and to run away when he heard a voice calling him.

“No, please, whoever you are, don’t go! It’s been so long since I last talked to someone!”

The voice was muffled, as if the man was talking from another room. However, he sounded so desperate that Dejan just couldn’t abandon him here alone. Something in his heart twisted and he took a few steps forward, only to find himself in front of the bars of a cell. A man was laying on the floor, his face trapped in a strange mask made of iron.

Dejan knelt next to him and the man turned back, striking brown eyes staring at him through the lids of the mask. It was all Dejan could see of his face, but he couldn’t ignore the maelstrom of emotions dancing in them.

“Thank you, thank you so much! I thought I was going to go crazy, having no one to talk to here. It feels like I’ve been here forever…”

His hands were at the bars, thirsty for any kind of touch, and Dejan let his fingers intertwine with the stranger’s without a single thought. It could have been dangerous. For all he knew, the man could have been imprisoned for committing a heinous crime. But those desperate, pleading eyes told him it wasn’t the case.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Šime. Šime Vrsaljko. And you?”

Once, more Dejan’s instinct urged him not to give his real identity to a prisoner staying in a hidden cell. Once more, he ignored it and decided to be honest with that strange inmate.

“My name is Dejan Lovren. Not to be indiscreet or anything, but… Why are you here? And what’s with that strange mask?”

“Oh, that’s a long story.”

Even without seeing his face, Dejan could feel the bitterness and sadness in his voice. He put a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder, hoping it would bring him some comfort.

“I have time, if you want to tell me.”

Šime blinked, obviously surprised that Dejan actually cared to hear his story. From the wrinkles around his eyes, Dejan could tell he was smiling. It warmed his chest in a strange but pleasant way.

“Okay, I’ll try to make that short. I was a nobleman like you, once. To be honest, I was quite successful in love and I messed around a little. That didn’t bring me much trouble, not until I came to Versailles, anyway. There, I made the mistake of seducing someone the king had his views on. That, I could have gotten away with. The three times it happened again after that, not so much. The king had me arrested in secret at night by his guards and imprisoned here. He also had this mask made for me so that, and I quote, ‘no one would fall for my pretty face ever again’. That’s how I ended up in here, end of the story.”

“Wait, that’s so cruel! Just because you were more popular than him…”

“Well, we’re talking about a king who’s waging war against almost every other European country, so it really shouldn’t be that surprising, right?” Šime shrugged. “Anyway, enough talking about me. Can you please tell me what is happening, outside? I’ve been here for years, so I have no idea what’s going on and I’m afraid I’ll lose grasp with reality.”

“Wait, years? How long are you supposed to stay in this jail?”

“Honestly? I think I’ll never get out of here.”

Šime tried to keep his tone neutral, but his voice broke in the middle of his sentence. It broke Dejan’s heart as well. He squeezed Šime’s shoulder once more, regretting that he couldn’t caress his cheek instead.

“Okay, I’m going to tell you everything I know. Every rumor, every story, you won’t miss anything. So, where do I begin…”

He stayed there until dawn until Šime chased him away, afraid guards would discover his new friend once they came to give him his food. So Dejan left, even though he would have given everything to stay by his side a little longer. He came back every night though, even if it was only for a few hours. And as his affection for Šime grew, his determination to get him out of jail grew stronger, too.

 

Dejan was at a fancy dinner, but all he could think about was finding a way to leave discreetly so he could join Šime without raising suspicion. However, he stopped in his track when he heard a lady gossiping to her friends. Most of the time, he didn’t care about those rumors, but this time, the subject caught his attention.

“Did you hear about the rumor? Some people say the king keeps a mysterious man locked up somewhere under the castle. He’s even wearing an iron mask so that no one will recognize him.”

Most of the people present were skeptical, but a man stepped him, raising Dejan’s curiosity once more.

“Yes, and I’m pretty sure this man exists. I know some guards who have already seen him. Also, there are some others who pretend he’s the king’s brother. That’s why he’s locked up and wears a mask, so that he won’t be able to claim the throne, even though he’s the rightful heir. Or at least, that’s what I heard.”

Dejan didn’t stay to hear the incredulous answers of the other noblemen. A crazy idea just made its way into his head, an idea that could get Šime out of trouble forever. He rushed to his room, looking for ink and paper. Once he found everything he needed, he started writing. He had some contacts in Liverpool, people who would love to see Louis XIV’s demise, people who would bring Dejan all the help he needed if he chose his words wisely.

 

Happiness filled Dejan’s heart as he rushed down the stairs leading to Šime’s room. When he found him, his friend was still asleep, but the sound from his footsteps woke him up. He looked miserable, lying on the cold hard ground, and it only made Dejan more happy to know that he was about to rescue him from this hell.

“Dejan, it’s you? You shouldn’t be here, we’re in the middle of the day, what if someone sees you…”

“Calm down, we have nothing to fear, I promise.”

Šime’s eyes grew wide when Dejan showed him a key, before opening the door to his cell. The prisoner didn’t waste a minute. He jumped to his feet, not hesitating a single second before rushing into Dejan’s arms. His legs were wobbly from the lack of exercise, though, and he almost fell down, only for the nobleman to catch him up.

“There, I got you.” He smiled.

“You’re crazy! You could get killed for freeing me, you idiot, this is fucking stupid of you but thank you, thank you, thank you so much…”

“Calm down, no one here is going to get killed. There’s still something I need to do, though.”

There was a click, and then the iron mask fell from Šime’s face. The prisoner took it in his hands and put it aside, then he stared at Dejan with awe.

The nobleman lost his breath. He expected Šime to be pleasant to the sight, yes, but nothing could have prepared him for the vision in front of him. He looked sickeningly pale because his skin hadn’t seen the sun for too long, sure, but Dejan had seen men and women with skin whiter because of makeup, so that didn’t phase him.

All in all, Šime looked like a dream come true. Suddenly, Dejan understood why a king might have been jealous enough of him to trap him in a hidden cell. However, all Dejan wanted right now was to protect this perfect man at all cost.

Šime touched his own face, bewilderment in his eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. Dejan let him do it for a few minutes before gently stopping his hand.

“You don’t have to do this. This is not a dream. You’re free and I’ll never let anyone put you in a cell again.”

“But how? How did you get these keys? And why did you do this?”

“The why part of this is simple. I did it because I care about you and couldn’t bare to see you rotting in here any longer.”

“Wait, really? It’s just… I feel like everyone has given up on me, so…”

“Not me. And actually, I did a little more than freeing you from here.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the new king of France.”

“I’m sorry, but now is not the time for joking. Please tell me the truth.”

“I’m not joking. From now on, you are king.”

Šime stopped for a second, examining Dejan’s face closely but finding no trace of dishonesty. That didn’t make his statement any more elievable, though.

“What? I mean, how? This is impossible, I have no tie with any royal family, how could I…”

“I’m sorry to say that, but no one knows who you are anymore. There are rumors saying you are the king’s twin or older brother, so I used those. I invented a story, telling the late queen sent you into exile during the revolt of the Fronde to keep you safe.”

“Wait, and people believed that?”

“Well, they did because most of them don’t like the actual king, be it French noblemen or foreigners. So they jumped on the occasion when they saw they could overthrow him by making you king. I wasn’t sure it would work out, but it was worth a try.”

“So you mean that now… I’m king.”

“You are, votre Majesté.”

Dejan winked at him and Šime suddenly felt himself blushing, though he tried to hide it as best as he could. There were already too many things he needed to figure out right now, no need to add his strange feelings for Dejan into the mix.

“So that means I’ll have to do king things? Like ruling the country, living in a fancy palace and all that?”

“Yes, but for now, you need to leave this place without anyone seeing you. You can’t show yourself in front of your subjects looking like this, or you’ll lose all credibility.”

“You do now I’m still having a hard time accepting that all this is happening, right?”

Dejan smiled gently at him before taking his hand in his.

“I know it must be scary, but I’ll help you through all this, I promise. What’s important is to get you out of here. Come on, follow me.”

Šime didn’t lose time and happily agreed to leave the cell in which he had lost so many years of his life. Dejan led him to the stairs and then they went through deserted corridors until they reached Šime’s new royal apartments.

“So you mean… This is all mine, now?”

“Of course, mon cher. I already ordered servants to draw a bath for you. I bet you want to get ride of all this dirt.”

“When will you stop spoiling me?” Šime teased him, though the spark in his eyes showed Dejan that he liked the attention.

“Well, it is my duty to serve my king.” The nobleman stroke back.

 

Šime took his time enjoying the bath, only getting out when the water grew cold. When he got out, he found fancy clothes waiting for him, including a blue cloak with golden lilies flowers all over it. He tried to put it all on without help, but at some point he gave up and called Dejan for help.

“What is it?” The nobleman asked, though he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found Šime entangled in the clothes.

“This isn’t funny, stop laughing and please help me!”

“Don’t worry, my king, I’m coming to the rescue. Also, please stop wriggling. Our tailor will be pissed if you ruin the clothes he created and I’m pretty sure you don’t want your first encounter here to be with an angry Mario.”

Dejan helped him put everything back in his place and once more Šime felt a weird tingling in his belly as the nobleman had to put his hands all over him to help him dress up. Soon, he was all ready, except for his shoes and white silk stockings.

“I’m sorry, but I think I’m going to need your help again. I can barely move in those clothes, less alone bend to put those tights on.”

“Don’t worry, I got you.” Dejan replied.

He tried to be confident, but his heart started beating in a weird way. Šime also looked aside, hoping Dejan would miss the blush growing stronger and stronger on his cheeks. In his confusion, Dejan had to restart many times before the stockings would stick to Šime’s skin. He shivered as his fingers brushed the new king’s thigh was the last time. He then hurried to help him with the high heels shoes a monarch was expected to wear.

“Good, now you’re almost ready. Let’s just get your hair and beard fixed now, shall we? I called a barber too, and then you’ll be all ready.”

“It can’t hurt, I guess. I must look awful, after all the time I spent in this cell.”

Dejan bit his lip before he could say that to him, Šime already looked beautiful back when all he could see were his eyes through the mask.

Dejan waited until Šime’s hair was done, though he always kept an eye on his friend. Deep down, he was always worried for him, afraid that someone would try to harm him, afraid that someone would discover that this was all a fraud.

When Šime came back to him, Dejan lost his voice. With his beard and heard trimmed, he looked more handsome than ever. It became even worse when Šime smiled happily at him.

“So, how do I look?”

“You… You look stunning.”

Before Dejan could embarrass himself any further, Šime took a step toward him, but he stumbled because of his heels. Thankfully, Dejan had fast reflexes and he rushed to catch him before he reached the ground.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m just not used to wearing this kind of shoes anymore. Guess there are lots of things I need to learn again.”

“That’s not a problem, I’ll help you through it. If you want me, that is.”

“Are you kidding me? You took me out of jail and somehow managed to make me king, all that while not expecting anything in return. Of course I want you by my side. I’d really like you to stay.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Now, I guess it’s time for your royal presentation. Everyone’s impatient to see you.”

“Well, I guess I have no choice. Let’s go, then.”

Dejan offered him his hand so Šime wouldn’t fall again, and when they left the apartments, they both had a bright smile on their faces.

 

After that, everything went surprisingly well. With his cocky smile and his confidence, Šime managed to fake being royalty without much trouble. Also, Dejan was always behind him to give him advice on how to behave in public. What’s more, every time he did something weird, the nobles of the court just assumed it was because of his foreign education or his long imprisonment.

Dejan made sure not to lose time before Šime went to Reims for his Sacre and coronation. Once that was done, no one dared to question his right to the throne. As for Šime, he just rolled with all this, way too happy to be out of his jail and living the grand life.

As time went by, they both started to get used to this. So when someone knocked on Šime’s door at the break of dawn, he didn’t say a word and simply let Dejan enter his room. His friend was wearing a tray full of food and his stomach growled at the thought.

“I still can’t believe I once used to live off bread and water alone, and now I get breakfast in bed every morning.”

“Only because you complain too much about etiquette. If you acted as the king before you, you’d even have noblemen helping you get dressed every morning, mon cher.”

“Sorry for wanting to wake up in peace and at my own pace. So did, you bring croissants today?”

“What do you think? Of course I did. I wouldn’t want to deceive you, mon roi.”

“Oh, stop making fun of me. Also, you should be glad I’m willing to share my food with you.”

Dejan laughed and sat on the bed next to Šime. He also took a half-baguette from the tray and cut it in smaller parts so he could put jam on it.

“I could do that myself, you know.” Šime teased him.

“Maybe, but I wouldn’t want his majesty to grow too tired.”

“Okay, now this is war!”

Before Dejan could process his words, Šime started tickling his sides. The nobleman put a hand on his mouth to muffle his laughter while he kept the tray from falling with the other.

“Stop that! If… If people hear us… They… They’ll wonder what is going on in here.”

Šime stopped his ministrations and Dejan quickly took advantage of this respite to put the tray on a nearby table. The king looked intrigued as he lazily wrapped his arms around Dejan’s neck like a cat missing attention.

“And what do you think they’ll imagine we’re doing exactly?”

“I… I don’t know… Things?”

“What kind of things? I’m sure you had something in mind.”

This time, Dejan’s cheeks turned into a deep red. He didn’t expect Šime to be suddenly so straightforward, though he liked the feeling of his arms circling him.

“Uhm, maybe… Kissing?”

“Nothing more?”

“French kissing?”

“I guess that will do for now.” Šime grinned before closing the gap between him and Dejan.

Their mouths met and Dejan didn’t waste a second to open his lips to welcome Šime. Their breaths grew heavy as their tongue touched. Šime grabbed Dejan’s clothes to steady himself as their making out became more passionate.

However, in their hurry, the nobleman bit Šime’s lip. He immediately pulled away when he noticed that he had drawn blood, putting his thumb right under the injury, worry in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I… I got carried away…”

“You don’t have to apologize. Apart from the biting part, this was really, really great. Actually, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“But, Šime… You’re a king now.”

“Yeah, thanks to you. Don’t think I forgot you were the only one there for me back when I had nothing.”

“Still, we can’t be together. Your position is too frail. If people learned you were favoring me, it could be bad for you.”

“Then I’ll make sure they never know. We can keep this a secret. Please, Dejan, I love you and I need you.”

Once more, those begging, pleading brown eyes were Dejan’s demise. He cupped Šime’s cheek in his hand and brought their foreheads together before planting a light kiss on his lips.

“Moi aussi, je t’aime, Šime. And I’ll never leave you, as long as you need me.”

“Then you should get ready to belong to me forever.” Šime whispered back.

“Your wish is my command, my king.” Dejan replied before moving so that his lover could cuddle close to his chest. “Also, we still have a breakfast to finish.”

“Damn, will you believe I almost forgot about that?” Šime chuckled, his eyes shining bright with happiness.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ugh, I’m so done with being king!” Šime whined, walking around in his office as Dejan observed him with an amused look.

“What happened again?”

“It’s the nobles of the court! The few who decided to stay at Versailles when I said they could go back to their lands, anyway. They’re complaining, saying that I’m not holding enough parties here, that the castle is boring, the food not good enough. So I told the cooks ‘Let them have domacica!’ because that’s like, the best food ever, but no, they’re still complaining. Can’t they be like normal people and, I don’t know, find a soule and go play outside? No, of course, that’s not good enough for them!”

“Well, it is true that you are not too fond of ballet. And I don’t want to be rude or anything, but it is expected of a king to organize events where people can dance. That’s tradition and most people at the court like it. I could take care of it myself so you wouldn’t be bothered by the preparations.” Dejan suggested.

At his words, Šime tensed and the nobleman knew something was wrong, even though he still needed to find what.

“Come on, we don’t have money to waste on something that stupid. Can’t we have, I don’t know, a comedy play instead? Those are funnier.”

“Šime, don’t turn around the subject and just tell me what’s bothering you. What, you don’t know to dance? I’m sure a great seducer like you must…”

Dejan suddenly lost his voice as his king looked away, clearly embarrassed by his words. His expression turned softer as he gently put his hands on his waist so that he wouldn’t run away.

“You really don’t? Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I used to know, a long time ago, but I forgot most of it when I was in prison. Just like I never learned the new dances that are in fashion now. Also, I can barely stand on those high heels I have to wear, so dancing? I would just make a fool of myself. Have you ever seen a king who didn’t know how to dance?”

“So that’s your big problem? You should have just told me earlier. I’ll teach you.

“You… You’d really do that?”

“Of course. You’ll need to learn how to lead, though.”

“Can’t I just follow? It would be easier.” Šime protested.

“Maybe, but that’s not what’s expected of a king. Come on, just put your hands here, on my waist.”

“Is this your way of seducing me? Because it’s working.”

Šime leaned toward Dejan so he could start sucking at his neck but the nobleman pushed him away gently.

“Oh no, you’re not getting away with it that easily. You need to learn how to dance or people will start wondering again if you really come from a royal family or if it’s just a lie. We can do this later, though.”

“Can I get kisses as rewards? Because if the answer is yes, then I’m in.”

“Of course you can, you idiot king. Now, I’m going to show you the steps, so stay focused…”

 

After a while, Šime grew accustomed to the dance training sessions. In fact, he even started enjoying it, especially once he decided to sing in the middle of dancing. It started as a joke, but Dejan joined him and soon enough, the lyrics of Marica were filling the room.

It was also supposed to stay between them, but people heard the king humming the tone while he was walking in his gardens and it soon became quite popular. Once it came to his ear that his people was dancing to Marica, Šime’s desire to learn how to dance to it rose up and he made impressing progresses in little time.

The first times he partied, Šime didn’t like it that much, mostly because he had to dance with French ladies instead of Dejan. However, he also grew more acquainted with some great people who weren’t bothered that much by the etiquette, just like him. Mario was always trying to fight someone, Domagoj always found a way to wreck havoc around him and Ivan was always flirting with Luka, a young captain serving in the army. Since Šime had put an end to most of the wars when he became king, Luka now had nothing much to do except hanging around in the castle to assure the king’s safety, which suited Ivan quite well.

But mostly, the king liked those nights because it always ended up with him tumbling into bed with Dejan, one way or another. This had been one of those nights and Šime slowly awakened, covers barely covering his waist, as the morning light disturbed his sleep. He was laying naked in bed with his lover’s arms around his body. When his eyes met Dejan’s, he expected his partner to scold him for being too careless the day before.

Usually, Dejan refused to sleep in the same bed as him, in fear someone would surprise them together in the morning. But today, he was too busy tracing the lines of Šime’s tattoos with his fingers to lecture him. The king shivered under the touch, pleased to receive such a warm welcome so early.

“Good morning, mon amour.” He whispered, turning around so he could kiss Dejan.

It was slow and lazy. Soon, Šime fell back onto the bed as Dejan started playing with his tattoos again.

“I was wondering, why do you have those? Not to be rude, but it is quite unusual for noblemen to have tattoos.”

“Well, I was a prisoner not so long ago, remember? Sometimes, other people shared my cell for a few days or weeks. They were all condemned to the guillotine, though, so they never stayed for long, but I befriended some of them and they accepted to make these tattoos. Since I thought I would wear that iron mask forever, I saw it as a way to keep my individuality. I don’t know if that makes sense, but somehow that helped me to hold on through the years and to protect myself from insanity long enough for you to find me and get me out of there.”

“No, I understand. Also, if you want to know, it looks beautiful on you.”

“Hmm, looks like someone is flattering me. If you’re trying to get money or a title out of your king, I’ll let you know that I can’t be corrupted that easily.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m no interested in those things. Your love and your body are the only things I wish to possess right now.”

“If that is so, then what don’t you claim it for yourself?”

Dejan didn’t resist that last call of temptation. He pushed Šime into the mattress, covering his neck and shoulders in lustful kisses. The king closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, willingly offering himself to his lover.

He could only be this vulnerable when he was with Dejan. With him, he could lose control, forget his responsibilities for a while, but also the struggles he had faced when he was a prisoner. As their bodies rocked together, his whole world revolved around Dejan, obscuring everything else.

As his lover brought them both to completion, he couldn’t do anything but whisper his name against his shoulder, trying his best to stay quiet but failing at it. Later, he would worry about someone discovering their secret. But right now, he let himself be engulfed by pleasure one last time before falling back into the covers.

It was hard for him to find his breath again, but once he managed to do it, he immediately snuggled into Dejan’s side, happy and content.

“You know you can’t stay in bed too late, your majesty.” Dejan reminded him after a while.

“Shut up, I’m feeling sleepy and it’s your fault.”

“I wasn’t the one who suggested this, if I remember well.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly have to beg you either.” Šime groaned, but he still forced himself to stand up.

His legs were still unsteady, but Dejan was there to help him, as always. Still, a flicker of worry passed through his stare.

“I didn’t go too hard on you, right?”

“Of course you didn’t. Now please help me find clothes before some servant starts worrying about me and come in to ask about my well-being.”

“You can just take those from yesterday. No one will notice.”

“Of course someone will notice! Did you try talking with Mario for more than five minutes? Aside from fighting people, the man’s obsessed by fashion! And even if that wasn’t the case, my tights are ruined because a certain someone thought it would be a good idea to use his teeth to take them off of me last night!”

“You found it hot!”

“Of course I found it hot, but that won’t help me getting dressed right now!”

They were about to argue when they heard a knock on the door. Both men stared at each other with horror written all over their faces.

“What do we do?” Dejan asked.

“I don’t know, maybe try hiding under the bed? I’ll go back in and pretend to still be sleeping.”

“Yeah, like that will work with your clothes and mines still spread all over the room.”

Another knock put an end to their quarrel, and the, they both froze when they heard the person behind the door talking, obviously amused.

“Please, don’t bother hiding under the bed. This is Ivan and I just wanted to say that you guys don’t need to hurry, because the whole castle already knows you’re seeing each other and no one cares. Also, it would be nice of you to make less noise while Luka is on guarding duty near your apartments. He’s trying to keep you alive and safe from murderers, so have some mercy for him.”

Dejan and Šime both grew red in shame, although they were both relieved that they wouldn’t have to face bigger consequences. Ivan left before Šime could try to deny anything, leaving the two lovers to their realization.

“Okay, let’s try to see the bright side of this. Obviously, our relationship isn’t a problem, contrary to what we were expecting. Also, Ivan is one to talk. Everybody knows he’s constantly making love eyes at Luka.” Šime whined.

“Still, we weren’t careful enough. Maybe it doesn’t bother anyone here, but our secret love could bother some people. You’re not without knowing that officially, what we are doing is forbidden out of mariage and…”

“Then let’s get married!”

Dejan’s brain stopped functioning for a second, before he stared at Šime with unbelieving eyes. A spark of joy shone in the nobleman’s stare, but Dejan quickly chased it away.

“Listen, Šime, I’m glad to know you love me that much, but this isn’t possible. A king like you could only marry a prince or a princess, not someone of a lower rank. No one would accept that.”

“I never talked of an official wedding. We could do it in secret, and if someone comes one day to bother us about our relationship, we could just say ‘hey, guess what? We were married all along.’”

“And who would marry us, exactly?”

“That doesn’t matter, really. The point of a secret wedding is that it stays secret, no? Maybe we could ask Luka? Domo once said he kinda looked like a priest, with how innocent he appears.”

“Domo was also drunk that night and he mistook Suba for a frog and Lovre for a giraffe.”

“I’m king, I can do whatever I want. And if I say Luka is a priest, then he is. And we could always blackmail him about his relationship with Ivan to make sure he won’t tell anything.”

“I think power is getting to your head. Maybe making you king was more dangerous than I thought.”

“I just want you to be my husband. Is this too much to ask?”

“Don’t look at me with those eyes, it’s not fair and you know it. We’re not getting a secret wedding and we’re not having Luka as our priest. End of discussion.”

 

“Ainsi, je vous déclare unis par les liens sacrés du mariage. Vous pouvez embrasser le marié.”

Šime grinned widely as his lips joined with Dejan’s, while behind them, Luka looked particularly displeased to be here, trapped in bishop clothes. He cleared his throat, loud enough to interrupt the two lovebirds.

“Now that we’re done, can I change clothes and go back to Ivan? And also, can we please never mention what happened today ever again?”

“Come on, don’t be mad. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that bad, brother Modric.”

“For the love of god, will you please stop using that ridiculous nickname?”

“That’s not a nickname!” Šime protested. “I decide who the higher-ups of the church are in my country, so from now on, you’re brother Modric!”

“Whatever you say. Now I’ll just go before Ivan worries because you two practically kidnapped me in the middle of the night just so I could participate in your little secret ceremony.”

“In my defense, that was Šime’s idea!” Dejan intervened.

“I don’t want to know whose idea it was! I clearly remember you both dragging me out of my room for this nonsense.”

“Fine, Fine, whatever you say. Oh, and since you’re going to see Ivan, can you tell him to deliver some domacica to my apartments tomorrow morning?” Šime asked.

“Sometimes, I wonder if you two aren’t having a contest at finding the most ridiculous jobs for us. But sure, Ivan will deliver domacica tomorrow morning, your highness.”

In Luka’s mouth, the words sounded terribly ironic. He bowed in an exaggerated way before leaving the chapel. Dejan and Šime ended up alone, both still dressed in their most fancy clothes. They had huge grins on their faces and Šime didn’t lose a second to throw himself into the nobleman’s arms.

“I can’t believe we did it. That we got married. It still feels unreal, to think that I got that far. All that thanks to you…”

Šime laid his head on Dejan’s shoulder, sighing happily. His now husband rubbed his back gently, knowing that it was sometimes still hard for him to process all this.

“I only gave you the recognition you deserve… Hey, don’t look at me like that! Okay, maybe making you king was a bit extreme, but it’s not as if I had a choice. And to be honest, everyone loves you here. You’re kind, you’re always one to party, you take care of your subjects… Luka, Ivan, Suba, they’re not stupid, you know. I’m sure they guessed a long time ago that there’s not a drop of royalty in your blood.”

“What? But if that’s true, why didn’t they say anything?”

“Simply because they can see that you’re a good king, even though we can get a bit crazy with the domacica sometimes.”

“Hey, I won’t let you insult domacica!”

“Of course not, mon cher, of course not. All I wanted to say is that you’re a great king and that I couldn’t be more proud to be your husband.”

“I could return you the compliment, you know. One life won’t be enough to thank you for getting me out of that awful jail.”

“Oh, wait, I have an idea! You want to thank me? Then what do you think of writing a false later to Mario? We’ll just have to pretend we’re Ramos provoking him in duel! They hate each other so much it’s almost funny. Oh, and we could ask Domo to help us find a good way of pranking him. What do you think?”

“I think that you have to be my soulmate, because you’re just brilliant and I love you. Although this can wait until tomorrow.”

“Oh, is someone eager to enjoy his wedding night?” Dejan teased him, wriggling his eyebrows in a ridiculous way that made Šime huff in laughter.

“I’m mostly interested in having domacica for breakfast, but I guess that’ll do too.”

“Come here, you mischievous king!”

Šime yelped when Dejan lifted him off the ground, but a grin soon made its way back onto his face.

“So, are you going to carry me bridal style to our room or what?”

Dejan laughed before manhandling him until he had one hand under Šime’s knees and the king’s arms wrapped around his neck.

“Tout ce que mon roi désire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some historical facts
> 
> The game of soule was played with a ball and can be seen as the ancestor of modern football
> 
> Translation:
> 
> Mon amour: my love
> 
> Ainsi, je vous déclare unis par les liens sacrés du mariage. Vous pouvez embrasser le marié: I know declare you bound by the holy links of marriage, you can kiss the husband
> 
> Mon cher: my dear
> 
> Tout ce que mon roi désire: anything my king desires

**Author's Note:**

> Some historical facts
> 
> Louis XIV really held a man wearing an iron mask in his cells. There were rumors about that prisoner being the king’s brother, but we still don’t know the truth nowadays.  
> Some nobles lived in very poor conditions in Versailles because there were too many people leaving there and not enough place. Also life was really expensive.  
> French kings had to go to the city of Reims for their coronation and it was an important ceremony with an important meaning.
> 
> Translation:
> 
> Votre majesté: your majesty  
> Mon cher: my dear  
> Mon roi: my king  
> Moi aussi, je t’aime, Šime: I love you too, Šime


End file.
